


I Wish I Wished Death Upon You

by Elthadriel



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, mutually abusive relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2427377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elthadriel/pseuds/Elthadriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke gets back from the Deep Roads and goes straight to see Anders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wish I Wished Death Upon You

**Author's Note:**

> So kinda different from my other one and only Dragon Age fic which was full of crack. 
> 
> Gregor Hawke and Anders are terrible to each other and really shouldn't even talk never mind be sleeping together but hey, where would be the angst in that?

He leant against the doorway to Ander’s clinic watching the mage clean as much of the filth from the room as was possible.

Hawke knew he should have returned to his mother first but after the sorry excuse for a burial he had been able to provide for Bethany so far into the Deep Roads and the gruelling trek back that had followed he had no interest in the blame his mother would undoubtedly place on his shoulders.

He pushed himself from the door frame and into the clinic nudging the door shut behind him with his blood incrusted boots. He would have to return home soon if only to clean the remains of the expedition from his skin and armour. 

Anders didn’t look up, confirming Hawke’s suspicions that he’d known of Hawke’s presence for a while even if he hadn’t acknowledged it. He allowed Hawke within a few feet of him before he threw the broom against the wall and turned to scowl at Hawke.

“Gregor,” He said in greeting, sounding as tired and fierce as Hawke remembered. “I had hoped you would die down there but I never was that lucky.”

“No, you’re not,” Hawke said looking Anders up and down, long since passed pretending to himself he didn’t enjoy the sight.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” Ander’s snapped suddenly, after allowing the Hawke’s examination to continue for just too long, “you think I don’t know?” 

Hawke bristled and only bit back a snarl; he hated Ander’s for that. He hated that that a mage, and this mage in particular, could read him so easily and had gained Hawke’s rapt attention from almost the first word. The way he had looked and sounded as when he had called Hawke “boy” and occupied more nights than Hawke would ever willing admit.

The bastard likely knew anyway.

It would have been enough to cause Hawke to hand Anders to the Templars the way he would have any other mage if not for his conviction that, while Anders surely hated him just as much and he hated Anders, he was equally obsessed.

He still didn’t say anything; he wasn’t fool enough to think he could start a conversation with Anders that wouldn’t end in an argument. Instead he lifted his gaze, meeting Anders eyes watching as the mage’s eyes grew black and the hard line of his mouth went lax as he opened his mouth ever so slightly and his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“Maker, I hate you,” Anders whispered, much of the bite gone from his voice, “You treat mages like animals to be lined up for the slaughter. You think that-”

“Shut up,” Hawke interrupted and to his surprise Anders did, snapping his mouth shut with force but behind the lust in his eyes was still definite fury. “I’m not here to listen to your misguided ranting.”

“If this is going to happen,” Anders breathed, softly enough that Hawke had to take a step forward, into what definitely qualified as Anders’ personal space, to hear him.

“If this is going to happen,” Anders repeated, “and you expect me put aside all my principles for you and do you the pleasure of keeping quiet about them then we’ll do this on my terms.”

Hawke clenched his hands into fists to avoid reaching out and pulling Anders to him.

“Do you understand?” Anders demanded, as if completely aware of the response his dominating side drew from Hawke.

“Do you understand me, Boy?” Oh, he was definitely aware.

Hawke made a barely audible noise at the back of his throat.

There was another long, awkward pause before Anders’ surged forward, shoving Hawke back against the closest wall, hands buried in Hawke’s hair, lips pressed against his in a kiss with enough bite to draw blood. With that kiss alone Anders gave up any higher ground he had claimed to have; Hawke could taste the desperation and longing there.

All the same, Hawke allowed himself to be manhandled by Anders so he was pinned against the wall, still kissing with the same unbridled fury. He kept one hand in Hawke’s hair, pulling too hard to remain solely arousing and passing into uncomfortable pain. Anders’ other hand released Hawke to move to grip him firmly through his trousers.

Hawke gripped Anders waist with one hand and his shoulder with the other, steadying himself to avoid buckling under the sensation. 

Hawke was content to let Anders lead for now; he would, after all, have a chance to change the rules the next time.


End file.
